HTLJ: A Solstice Tale
by Arianna18
Summary: Hercules' and Iolaus' plan to foil Ares' latest war goes awry.


"This is the _stupidest_ thing I've ever done," Iolaus thought as he perched in the tree, looking down at Ares. "This is just plain _dumb_! Ares is _not_ going to find this funny...he never finds it the least bit amusing when the joke's on him!"

Still, the hunter remained poised on the branch, just out of sight of the God of War, who was doing his usual charming bit, threatening the upcoming Solstice celebrations, swaggering, arrogant, and generally being a pain in the butt. Herc didn't want to start a war, ever, and especially not before the biggest festival holiday of the year. Iolaus knew Hercules kinda hoped that some gentle discouragement would send Ares on his way.

Not likely, in Iolaus' view. But, who knew? Stranger things were known to happen. Miracles could happen...not likely, maybe, but possible.

So, here he was, up a tree, a kettle of not quite boiling hot contents on his knees, and a pack stuffed with little white projectiles over his shoulder. As he waited for the right moment, he thought back to the events which had brought him here and shook his head.

* * *

Ares had been trying to persuade Heph to make him a new batch of weapons, special delivery, for a sleazy warlord outside the hilltown of Kamilos, with the intention of taking over the town on Solstice Eve. The God knew the last thing the townsfolk would be expecting was a raid, as they bustled about visiting one another, and generally enjoying the festive atmosphere of the Winter Solstice. In the War God's view, it was one of those _sickening_ 'family times', when life was quieter, and people would journey great distances to be with loved ones. But, the _upside_ was, it was also a rich time, when people everywhere exchanged tokens of their friendship and love. There would be a hoard of treasure gathered in that town on Solstice Eve.

'Ripe for the pickings,' the God of War thought with a gleeful grin, quickly covered by a scowl as Hephaestus turned to continue their haggling. Ares enjoyed the sparring. It alleviated the yawning boredom that had consumed him lately. Much to his disgust, he hadn't been able to generate any wars this close to the holidays, but at least a minor massacre gave him something to think about.

Standing just beyond the portal to the forge deep within the volcanic mountain, 'Dite had overheard Ares and Heph talking, and was a long way past irritated. Ares was such a spoiler! The Winter Solstice was one of the Goddess of Love's favourite festivals, because it celebrated every kind of love. Family, friendship, lovers...platonic, filial, romantic, fraternal...you name it, and the Winter Solstice had it covered. It was a time of peace and thanksgiving.

Not a time to be fighting off bandits from the hills.

Scowling gently, so as not to create any wrinkles, 'Dite stood with a well polished fingertip against her delicate, soft cheek. There had to be a way to shut Ares down...without making him so angry he'd just explode and create worse chaos. Maybe a distraction. Yeah. That might work! The delectable Goddess of Love snapped her fingers, to send herself to the campsite shared by her favourite brother and his favourite friend.

* * *

Herc and Iolaus were just in the process of breaking camp, their spirits high in anticipation of the holidays. They were on their way home to Thebes, less than a day's journey away now, to celebrate Solstice with Herc's mother, Alcmene and her husband, Jason. She'd asked them to bring some supplies along with them, so Iolaus was lugging a fuller than usual pack, full of sweet goodies to tempt Jason's palette...and his own, he thought with a grin. He'd just been picking up the pack, when the sprinkle of pink lights filled the air and 'Dite arrived, already talking.

'Uh oh, here comes trouble,' he thought with a sigh, setting the pack down on the ground, with a glance at his partner, who stood with his arms crossed and one eyebrow cocked, a look of pained forbearance on his face. They were heading home. For Solstice. And neither of them appreciated this precursor of trouble. Even if it was only 'Dite, gods _always_ meant trouble. Hercules shook his head, his lips compressed in a narrow line of unconscious distaste. And listened.

"Well, you know what he's like! He can't stand it when anyone else is having fun, so he just has to barge in and make a mess of everything! Well, I've _had_ it! I want him _stopped_ this time! And, I know you can do it...nothing serious, no..." she waved her hands, making a face, "messiness. Just, oh I don't know, get him to forget about making trouble until after Solstice! Calm him down. Work off a little steam. Is that too much to ask?" She stood, an indignant look on her face, one hand on a shapely hip and the other flung into the air. "Well? _Is it?_"

Hercules waited a beat, to see if she had anything more to say, then shook his head as he turned his gaze on Iolaus, who just threw up his hands, as if to say, 'Don't look at me, she's _your_ sister!'.

Making a face at his partner, Hercules turned back to Aphrodite.

"Who are you talking about?" he asked mildly, thinking this might be a helpful place to start. Why Aphrodite always had to start in the middle of a conversation, was beyond him.

"Who? What do you mean _'who?'?_ _Ares_, of course!" she replied impatiently. "Who _else _would I be talking about?"

"Well, she's got you there, Herc...who else indeed?" Iolaus said with a smirk, trying to decide if the whole thing was funny, or if he should start preparing for trouble. Trouble, he decided. Ares always meant trouble. He rolled his eyes, and stood waiting with his hands on his hips.

"Ares is planning to ruin Solstice?" Hercules continued doggedly with the clarification process.

'Dite threw her hands in the air. "I just TOLD you that! What's wrong with you today? Would you get with the program? I want you to distract him, get him to focus his attention on something else," she lectured.

"Like us, I presume?" Hercules asked with a deep sigh. He'd known it. Trouble. Gods always meant trouble. "No, I don't think so," he said, shaking his head.

"_Hercules!_ He's going to attack a town on Solstice Eve, probably kill a lot of people and generally ruin a good time! How can you say 'no'?" she exclaimed, her mouth dropping open, eyes wide in incredulity.

"_What town?_" Herc demanded with a frown, straightening in concern.

"_Kill people?_" Iolaus repeated sharply, his stance changing to alarm.

Killing people was not their idea of a little problem...why hadn't she said so in the first place?

Aphrodite sighed, as if she thought they were both dolts. "It doesn't matter _which_ town if you distract him. I think I can get Heph to refuse to deliver on the weapons Ares is ordering...."

"**_Weapons? What weapons?_**" they chorused, impatient worry in their voices.

"Would you STOP and LISTEN to me!" she scolded, close to being angry. "Town, weapons..._it doesn't matter_, so long as YOU distract him! So, will you do it?"

Herc threw his hands into the air and looked to the heavens, as if some help might be had from there, then turned toward his buddy with more hope of getting a positive answer. Iolaus had a disgusted look on his face, but shrugged and nodded. How could they refuse?

"Alright," Hercules capitulated. "We'll figure out...something," he replied, resigned. Great, just great. Ares was on the war path, and they didn't know which town was the target or how well equipped Ares' forces would be.

Aphrodite had burst into a huge grin, her eyes dancing as she cooed, "I _knew_ I could count on you guys!"

Herc was about to try for more details, when she disappeared in another delicate display of pink sparkles.

The demigod had looked at the empty space, his mouth open, then with both hands back on his hips, he shook his head. "Distract him?" he sighed, resigned.

"Yeah, and remember...nothing messy!" Iolaus said brightly, the trace of a teasing grin on his lips. Trust 'Dite to worry about 'messiness' when Ares was ordering weapons for a Solstice Eve massacre.

'Goddesses,' he thought with a sigh, then shrugged as he ambled over to stand beside Hercules. "So, what do you think?"

"There has to be a way of stopping Ares from storming a town and killing innocent people," Hercules mumbled, his brow furrowed in thought, trying to come up with a distraction that wouldn't be 'messy'.

Gazing around for inspiration, Herc spotted Iolaus' pack and got a speculative look in his eyes. "Maybe we can sweeten him up!" he said with a slow smile, then turned to grin at Iolaus.

"_Ares_? Sweeten _Ares_ up?" Iolaus protested, shaking his head in denial that any such possibility could ever exist. He reached up to check Herc's temperature...it sounded as if his buddy was running a fever and hallucinating.

Hercules brushed his best friend's hand away, and smirked. "Yeah, enough to get his mind off mayhem, anyway."

"His pea-brain is _never_ off 'mayhem', Herc! You just want him to direct his 'mayhem' at us instead of the town!" Iolaus groused. He'd been looking forward to Solstice at Alcmene's and Jason's.

Herc just grinned at him and patted his shoulder. "I want to be home as much as you do for the holiday, Iolaus. This won't take long. Now, we just need a temple to trash, a fire and a kettle...." he mused, kicking out their campfire, while Iolaus threw up his hands and bent to retrieve the pack.

The temple was easy. There's always a Temple to Ares around when you need one, and even when you don't. Not more than an hour away, they found what Herc wanted and set up their temporary camp. They'd picked up a kettle at a village market on the way, and more of the supplies Hercules had wanted to 'sweeten Ares up a bit'. Iolaus built up the fire, and started melting their stock in the kettle. Before long the area was filled with the sweet, tantalizing aroma arising from the pot over the fire. While the kettle was simmering gently, he emptied everything else out of his pack and filled it with the little white projectiles. 'Waste of goodies,' he thought, popping one into his mouth.

"Aphrodite said she didn't want anything _messy_," Iolaus challenged his partner, turning back to the fire to stir the melting mass with a stick.

"Yeah, well, she meant blood, and you know it," Hercules grinned back. This would work...and it might be fun at the same time.

At last they were ready. Iolaus slung his pack over his shoulder, then climbed the tree not far from the entrance to the Temple, and Herc handed the almost overflowing pot up to him. Then, Herc went to trash the temple, knowing Ares would show up and charge after him. Herc would lead him under the tree, then stop to challenge the God of War, and Iolaus would do his thing.

'First we trash _his_ temple, and now....' Somehow, Iolaus really didn't think this was the way to Ares' funny bone. Hence, his thoughts as he was sitting in the tree. 'Gods, this is a dumb idea.'

Well, 'dumb' or not, he grudgingly had to admit it had worked so far. Herc had smashed a couple of statues, and Ares had shown up on cue. Hercules had bolted from the Temple, Ares on his heels, and now the two half-siblings were slinging insults at one another, Ares under the tree, and Hercules about fifty feet away.

"It's a _holiday_, Ares! Can't you take some time out and enjoy it like everyone else?" Hercules shouted at his brother, still trying to reason with him.

'Hopeless,' Iolaus thought, shifting the kettle, getting ready to pour it over the God's head.

"I plan to _enjoy_ it!" Ares sneered, "With a good old fashioned _battle!_"

"_Battle?_" Hercules scoffed. "Sneaking down to raid innocent families at the happiest time of the year? That's not some glorious _battle!_ Don't you think it's beneath you? After all, you're the God of War, not God of Village Raids by Stupid Mercenaries!"

"Look, _you_ celebrate your way and I'll celebrate in _mine_," Ares shrugged, preparing to leave. This was boring.

"Guess that's my cue," Iolaus thought, as he tipped the kettle. Thick, sweetsmelling brown goop plopped and then flowed heavily down upon the God of War, covering him from head to boot in melted bittersweet chocolate...Iolaus hadn't thought milk chocolate all that appropriate for the War God...too wholesome.

Dropping the kettle to bounce, inadvertantly of course, off of Ares' head, Iolaus whipped the pack from his shoulder and upended it, covering the astonished God with a flurry of white marshmallows, which fell like little powder puffs and stuck to the chocolate all over Ares' body.

Iolaus couldn't help it. He started to giggle. From up here, Ares looked like nothing so much as a giant s'more!

Ares, however, was not laughing. With stiff restraint, he ran a fingertip along his cheek, and tasted the sticky warm brown mess. Licking his lips, eyes glaring at Hercules, he lifted one arm suddenly, sending a bolt of energy up toward the tree, to blast the limb Iolaus was perched on from the trunk.

"Yoooaahhh!" Iolaus yelled as he plummeted to the ground, landing in a heap, to roll and look up at Ares, still giggling at the sight before him. Ares was dripping from head to boot in hot chocolate, with little white powder puffs softening his normally hard, muscular lines.

Herc snickered, too, from a few feet away. "Aw, Ares, we heard you like chocolate...we just wanted to 'sweeten you up' a bit," the demigod laughed, goodnaturedly.

The God of War looked down upon his chocolate and marshmallow covered body, and nodded. "You just wanted me to have a little fun, is that it, Hercules?" he asked in a dangerously mild tone.

Hercules shrugged as he held out his hands in a gesture of peace. "Look, Ares, we don't want any trouble, really. It's just that, well, 'Dite hoped we could distract you from your plans of messing up the festival."

Ares nodded again, once, as if his neck was stiff and tight. "Distract me?" he repeated, quietly before continuing, his dark eyes flashing with barely suppressed fury, "Well, it _worked_. Now I don't want to trash the village...now I just want to **_hurt the two of you._** Do you like **_that_** idea better?"

Iolaus had stopped giggling at the cold, dangerous tone in Ares' voice, and had scrambled to his feet, putting some distance between himself and the furious god.

Hercules sighed, and shook his head, still trying to be reasonable. "No, not really. Let's just call a truce, Ares, and you can go enjoy your chocolate and marshmallow treat. Okay?"

"No, little brother, _not_ 'o-kay'," Ares replied, as he snapped his fingers. There was a sudden rush of wind from massive wings, as a giant shadow loomed over them from the air.

Looking up, the heroes were aghast at what they saw. An eagle, the size of a barn, was poised to strike at Ares' command. Hercules flexed his knees and raised his hands, ready for battle, and Iolaus drew his sword, watching Ares warily with one eye and the monster with the other.

Ares looked from one hero to the other. Finally, staring at Hercules, he raised his arm, then suddenly swiveled toward Iolaus, yelling, "HIM! Take _him_ all the way north and drop him in the snow!"

The monster dove for the hunter, who shouted and brandished his sword, ducking instinctively. Herc launched himself toward his buddy, only to feel a blast of hot energy against his chest, which sent him flying backwards to crash hard into a tree before hitting the ground.

"Uh uh," Ares said harshly, bouncing another energy ball in his hand, in case Hercules recovered in time to intervene, "_my_ turn to play!"

Iolaus slashed desperately up at the monstrous eagle, his sword ringing as it connected with one of it's murderous claws. He yelled, and twisted away from the talons, but the beast's wing caught Iolaus offside and sent him sprawling, face first into the dirt, the sword flying from his hand. He was scrambling back to his feet when he felt the talons encircle his body and drag him into the air. Kicking and flailing, he yelled, "**_Put me DOWN!_**"

But, the monster didn't take its orders from Iolaus. Flapping its great wings, cutting through the air, the beast rose quickly to a great height. Looking down, Iolaus gulped. At first the view was kinda cool, but it fast just got scary as the eagle surged even higher into the sky. He saw Herc struggle back to his feet, one arm raised, and heard his buddy shout _"IOLAUS!"_ and then the monster banked, turning in the air, carrying him away from the site of the Temple and the sight of his best friend.

Carrying him north.

"**_IOLAUS_**!" Hercules screamed again, watching the monster fade to a small blip in the sky and wheel away. Enraged, the demigod whirled on the God of War. "Bring him **_BACK!_**" he shouted, advancing in fury, intending to get very 'messy', very 'messy' indeed.

Ares just shook his head and laughed. "Nope, don't think so, bro. You wanted me distracted? Well, I'll get a big kick out of watching your family's Solstice celebrations this year. Be careful what you wish for, Hercules..._sometimes you get it!_"

Hercules dove at the God, slugging him so hard, Ares flew back and bounced off the Temple wall. Instead of retaliating, however, the God of War just laughed, highly amused by his brother's distress. "You _can't_ hurt me, and you'll _never_ find him. This'll teach the little worm to douse me in hot chocolate. Your puny pet mortal is gone, Hercules...gone with the wind. _Happy Solstice, bro!_" Ares sneered, then vanished.

"**_ERRGGHHH!_**" Hercules growled, in fury, fear and frustration. Swinging back to look at the sky, fists clenched at his side, eyes desperately searching for someone he knew was no longer in sight, he felt sick with helplessness and anxiety. Ares had sent the monster north...to the snow.

North was a big place. Gods.

"**_Aphrodite!_**" he yelled, pacing in circles, desperately wanting to hit something. This was his fault. His stupid plan, to irritate Ares, to get him to blow off some steam and back off from his need for a little grim amusement, had gone terribly wrong. This wasn't _supposed_ to have happened! Ares was _supposed_ to yell, throw a few lightning bolts, and exchange a couple earthshaking blows with Hercules...and then go home to Olympus, relaxed, feeling good.

Damn it! Damn them all! Speaking of whom, where was she?

"**_'DITE!_**" he bellowed again, his fists clenched, the cords of his neck taught with tension. His eyes held a mixture of desperate worry and overwhelming anger. He had to fight to keep from panting for air, from screaming with rage and impotence.

"_You did it!_" Aphrodite crowed in delight, as she materialized in front of him. "I _knew_ you could do it! Ares is back and strutting around like the cat who got the cream, chuckling in his own icky way. This is so GREAT!" She was so caught by the success of her plan that it had taken her a minute to notice that Hercules was seething with rage. "Isn't it?" she asked, less certain.

"No," Herc snarled, "it isn't _great_. Notice anything different here, Aphrodite?"

Frowning in trepidation, the goddess looked around the area. Temple, tree, broken limb, Curly's empty pack, sword in the grass...Curly's sword...oops. No Curly. Her eyes flashed back to Hercules, wide with dismay, ready to flinch, as she murmured, "Where is he?"

"Ares had a monsterous eagle fly Iolaus north, to the snow," Hercules ground out. "**_Find him!_**"

"Find...? But, I..." 'Dite was about to protest that she didn't have a clue as to where to even begin looking for Iolaus, but the rage in Herc's eyes suggested that wouldn't be a really bright idea. They'd gotten into this mess doing her a favour, after all, so she'd better get her brain in gear and decide where to search. "Okay," she said, disappearing from sight.

Hercules paced, wearing a path in the grass, as he waited for her return. North. Snow. "Hates the snow," Hercules mumbled, worried, "and doesn't have a cloak, or even," he cast a look at the pile of discarded stuff from Iolaus' pack on the ground by the tree, "or even a blanket. Gods. Where _is_ he?"

He hated waiting. He wanted to be on his way to find his buddy. But, there was no point in just heading 'north, to the snow'. Iolaus could be anywhere...days, even weeks away. Gods. Herc could rush right by him, if he was lying hurt somewhere, and not even know it.

He had to have a better idea of where to look than 'north' and 'snow'.

It seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, when Aphrodite popped back into view, twisting her hands, a scrunched up, worried look on her face. Hercules wasn't going to like this. He stopped pacing, turned to face her and took in her posture. She hunched, for all the world like she expected him to hit her.

Forcing himself to calm down, knowing it wouldn't do any good to make her more upset than she was, and a little ashamed to think he'd apparently scared her that badly, he said tightly, "Where is he?"

"I don't know," 'Dite whispered. "I'm sorry, I looked everywhere north of here, and checked the mountain tops, you know, where there's snow...but...he isn't in Greece anymore, Hercules. I don't know where he is."

"Macedonia?" Herc suggested quickly, desperate.

She shook her head, miserable. "I looked there, too. Sorry."

Hercules felt as if he'd been hit by one of Zeus' thunderbolts. By the Gods..._not in Greece?_ He swiveled, looking up into the sky, to the north. How far? Where? "_Iolaus,_" he whispered, overcome by an overwhelming sense of helpless dread.

She moved to stand beside him and put a tentative hand on his shoulder, but he just shook her off, his head bowed. "_Where do I look?_" he asked, a lost, desperate, note in his voice.

"He's gone, Hercules...I'm so sorry. I never thought anything like this would happen. There isn't anything you can do," she said softly, on the verge of tears.

He turned his head to look at her, his eyes stricken. "I can't just _give up_ on him...."

"You can't just run off looking, not knowing where to even start, either," she tried to reason with him. "Look, I'll try to find out where Ares sent him...and I'll get back to you, okay?"

Hercules looked around sightlessly, like a man dazed. Finally, he nodded. What other choice was there?

"Go home, Hercules, to Alcmene's house...I'll see you there, as soon as I know anything...." She hated to leave him like this, but she had a God of War to deal with. The sooner the better.

She only waited until he nodded again, wordlessly, and then she was gone.

Hercules turned back to the site of their conflict with Ares, and stooped to pick up Iolaus' sword. Gods, Iolaus was at the mercy of some monster and didn't even have a weapon to fight with.

Biting his lip, Hercules slid the sword into its scabbard, attaching it to his belt, then gathered up Iolaus' empty pack, moving stiffly to the pile of belongings under the tree, to stuff it with their gear. Blankets, fishing line and hooks, a flint, extra arrow heads, a small knife for filleting fish, thin rope for snares, a pair of silver earrings for Alcmene, new gauntlets for Jason...Solstice gifts...and, for Hercules, a tiny, pewter figurine that he could carry in his pouch...a figurine of a hunter.

Herc's fist gently closed over the tiny hunter as he sank to his knees, his eyes blurred with tears, overwhelmed by the aching helplessness and despair that filled his heart.

Iolaus was in trouble, in danger of being murdered by that monster, and he had no idea how to help him.

* * *

A furious Goddess of Love appeared before a hugely happy God of War, and pushed past every boundary of decorum and reason by his grin of absolute satisfaction, she hauled off and slugged him.

"Whoa! Little sister," Ares said, hand to his jaw as he turned to look at her with admiration, "you pack quite a punch!"

"Quit the comedy, Ares, where's Iolaus?" she snapped, eyes flashing, hands on her hips.

"Iolaus?" the God of War paused frowning uncertainly, as if wondering who she meant. "Oh, you mean the little blond runt who tags after Daddy's favourite blue-eyed baby boy?"

Her eyes narrowed, wondering what she could do to him to make him talk. "This isn't funny, Ares. I am _not_ amused. What did you do with Sweetcheeks?"

Ares shrugged, and gave her a cold smile, "I'm not all that sure where he is, actually...somewhere," he waved vaguely, "up north."

"That's not good enough!" she cried, stamping a delicate foot.

"No? Well, that's too bad, Sis, 'cause that's all I know. He's toast," Ares sneered, then laughed, "Well, actually, he's probably a popsicle. Either way, I won't be bothered by him again...ever."

Aphrodite took a step back, her eyes clouded with disbelief, her face paling at his words. "He's _dead?_ Oh no, _don't_ tell me that!" she moaned, closing her eyes and turning away.

"If he isn't now, he soon will be...if the cold doesn't kill him, the fall from the sky certainly will," Ares replied, enjoying this. "Now, do you want to tell Hercules his little buddy is done for...or shall I?"

Glaring back over her shoulder at him, 'Dite realized she had a hard time hating anyone. It just wasn't in her. But, at that moment, she hated Ares.

* * *

Hercules trudged home slowly, Iolaus' pack dangling from one hand. They'd been less than a day away, but he was in no hurry to tell Alcmene and Jason what had happened. He kept hoping, every step of the way, that Aphrodite would return and give him a destination, a place to look. He didn't care if it took him a year, he'd go. He'd do anything to get Iolaus back, safe. Anything.

But, the longer she was away, the more he knew the news was going to be bad.

He was less than a half mile from his mother's house, when 'Dite finally flashed onto the path in front of him. One look at her face, her eyes glistening with tears, told him everything he _didn't_ want to know. The lump in his throat was too big for words to pass, and his eyes just gazed at her, begging her not to tell him...not to tell him Iolaus was lost.

She didn't look away, just walked toward him, and hugged him. He stood stiff, arms at his sides, his heart breaking. "No," he sighed, knowing it was worse than he'd feared. "Please, 'Dite..._no_...."

"I'm sorry, Hercules. I looked as far north as I could go...farther than any of us from Olympus have ever ventured before. I'd didn't want to believe Ares when he said...." her voice cracked, and she hugged him harder.

He brought up his arms, and eased her back. He didn't want comfort, nor did he have any to give. "What did Ares say?" he asked, his voice tight, flat.

"He said...he said Iolaus is...dead," she forced out, no longer able to look at him.

"**_NO!_**" Herc raged, spinning away from her. "**_I won't accept that!_**" He'd shouted his denial of her words, his voice cracking, gasping for breath. 'I can't,' he'd thought. _'I can't...'_

His mind replayed the fractured images. Iolaus, telling him it was a dumb idea. Iolaus, giggling on the ground in front of a chocolate and marshmallow coated Ares. Iolaus swinging his sword up at the monster diving toward him. Iolaus...caught in the monster's claws, disappearing into the sky high above.

Iolaus.

_Gone_.

"I'm sorry, Hercules, more than you can ever know. Go home. There's nothing you can do," she whispered, then faded from sight.

* * *

Jason and Alcmene had been keeping watch for their wanderers, happily anticipating the family reunion for the celebration of Solstice. Hercules and Iolaus could disappear for months at a time, but they always made it home for this, the most special of the year's holidays. Alcmene had been cooking for days, baking her sons' favourite cookies, pies and cakes. A boar stew was simmering on the fire, courtesy of Jason's hunting skills. Wine was already decanted and waiting on the side board. Presents were wrapped, and lay waiting under a wreath of pine boughs and berries in the corner by the hearth. All was ready for the return home of her boys for the holiday.

Jason spotted him first, and eagerly called to Alcmene, "They're here! They're home!"

Then, he turned back, to hasten down to the lane to meet them...and realized that Hercules was alone, walking as if he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. Jason's eyes anxiously searched the road behind his son-in-law and oldest friend, his heart already clenching with a sorrow which was only beginning. Alcmene had dashed out of the house, and was skipping down to stand beside him, her steps faltering when she too realized something was very wrong.

"Where's Iolaus?" she whispered, a hand coming to her mouth in a gesture of worried consternation.

"I don't know," Jason said, his voice thick with anticipated grief, putting an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close.

All the way home, Hercules had tried to tell himself that 'Dite was wrong, that Iolaus was alright... somewhere. But, he was afraid Ares had told her the truth...that Iolaus was dead. His chest heaved with the effort of containing his sobs, and his torn, aching heart. His face was white with grief, eyes wide and haunted. He had heard Jason's shout for his mother, and he paused a moment, before continuing his slow walk up the lane toward the house, past the wall he had never completed. He saw them standing there, waiting for him, already holding onto one another for support from the blow they knew was coming.

As soon as he was close enough, Alcmene rushed to hug him, Jason right behind her, to put a strong, steadying arm around his shoulders. They didn't need to be told Iolaus was gone. His absence, and Hercules' demeanor spoke volumes. They just needed to know how.

"Ares," Hercules choked out. "A monster...took him...took Iolaus...." His voice broke. Tears brimmed in his eyes. "I don't know where to look...."

Alcmene and Jason were shocked into silence by the tragedy, unable to find the words to express the sudden deep, aching, sorrow they felt inside. Griefstricken, they turned, and plodded to the house. There would be no celebration this year.

Herc felt as if he would never know any kind of happiness again. His world had gone dark...and empty.

* * *

"_Gods, it's cold!_" Iolaus moaned, shaking and shivering in the monster's claws. His skin was blue with cold, his lips chapped from the wind and freezing temperature. For the umpteenth thousandth time, he wondered how far 'north' this damned monster was taking him. They'd flown a day and a night, over mountains and endless forests, then frozen rivers and plains until another, shorter day had passed. It was dark again, the stars bright in the clear sky above...and it had been dark for a very long time. Before the sun had gone down, and all the light had faded from the world, he'd seen nothing but white below them...they'd left any sign of trees far behind.

He was dizzy and weak from thirst and hunger, his energy reserves completely sapped by the constant shivering, until he lay limp in the monster's claws. He was in big trouble, and he knew it. They'd gone way too far for Herc to ever come after him...and if he didn't get warm soon, he'd freeze to death.

He doubted he could make it until the dawn. Iolaus had no way of knowing that they'd flown so far north that there wouldn't be a dawn.

He'd just started to drift off, numbed by the perpetual, relentless cold, when he felt himself dropping through the sky, plummeting to the white, snow covered earth beneath. He shouted, and struggled in the air, more from reflex than from any hope of being heard or saved.

"**_Hercules!_**" he yelled again, instinctively, believing he was about to die, just before he hit and ploughed deeply into the snow, the wind knocked from his lungs by the force of the landing, the cold blanket of the snow enrapping his still, silent form in its silent splendour.

When he came to, he didn't know how long he'd been unconscious. He just knew he had to move or die. His hands and feet were numb, his arms, legs and body felt like one big icicle. Testing for anything broken, he moved cautiously, and, amazed to find himself in one piece, he began to dig himself up from the deep hole he'd created when he'd ploughed into the immense drift. It was hard slogging, reaching up and ahead, to scoop and slither his way forward, his skin burning from the cold. His breath billowed out in front of him, and his teeth chattered. And, it was dark, the endless night lit only by the stars and the full moon above him, its silvery cold light reflected by the whiteness of the snow surrounding him.

Finally, he pushed himself over the top and slid down on his back. Panting, he struggled to stay awake, to fight off the slumber of exhaustion he knew he'd never wake from. Lifting his head, he looked around, eyes squinting against the ice on his lashes.

_Lights!_

His heart pounded with hope and desperation as he dragged himself over onto his side, and up onto his knees. He tried to stand, only to fall over when he took a step. He couldn't feel his feet. They were useless lumps, unresponsive, unable to support him. Weeping from exhaustion, the tears freezing on his cheeks and lashes, he started to crawl, dragging himself by his elbows, toward the lights. He could see it was a big house, with a massive barn or workshop in back, and there were countless little huts...and a corral, with some animals.

Light. Warmth.

_Life._

If he could just make it.

"_Help me!_" he tried to call out, but his voice was only a frozen whisper on the wind.

He reached out, desperately straining toward hope, then collapsed in a heap on the snow.

* * *

Inconsolable, Hercules went for long walks alone, the pewter figurine clutched in his fist, lost in his grief, unaware of whether it was day or night. Iolaus had been gone two days, and night had fallen again some time ago. He only realized that fact when he crashed over a log he couldn't see, and fell flat on the other side. He laid there on his side, curled a little, too hurt inside to worry about bruises on the outside.

Too heartbroken and sick with guilt to care or worry about anything except the fact that Iolaus was gone.

He didn't know what to do, couldn't accept there was _nothing_ he _could_ do. He believed in the gods, and knew it was useless to pray to them. But, his soul cried out, desperate that someone, something _hear_ him, hear his pleas that his friend be returned to him. He couldn't pray to Olympus...he knew there was no help there. He didn't think he could pray at all.

But, his soul knew better.

And, his prayers flew north on the night wind.

Prayers from a broken heart and a soul desperate to believe against all reason that there was still hope.

* * *

Warm. He was _warm_. Iolaus sighed in the wonder and luxuriousness of it. He was lying on a deep, soft, goosedown mattress, his body covered with a plump quilt stuffed with the same light, comfortable, downy feathers. His head was cradled by a fluffy pillow, and he felt as if he was floating in a place of peace and warmth.

"Hmmm," he murmured in perfect contentment. He'd never thought he'd ever be warm again. Still half asleep, he didn't wonder where he was. It didn't matter. He'd seen lights. Someone kind had found him.

"He's waking up," a low, gruff voice said, "better get the master."

"Well, it's about time!" another voice complained. "The busiest time of the year, and he has to drop in all unexpected, needing all this attention."

"Well, it didn't look like he'd planned the visit...go on, get the master," the other voice replied, brusque, but somehow gentle as well. Iolaus felt a small hand tuck the quilt more firmly under his chin.

He blinked and tried to focus. A candlelit room, a fire in the hearth. Dark rafters high above. His eyes flicked to the person beside him, and he blinked again at the sight. It, he, was tiny, with a wisened old face, and bushy brows over an oversized nose. Tufts of gray hair poked out from under a green, pointed cap, and he was dressed in what looked like green felt, from his crisp collar down to the tight cuffs on the puffy sleeves. Green eyes twinkled at him from under the brows.

Iolaus yawned, surprising himself, and he pulled a hand out from under the blankets to cover his mouth. "Sorry," he mumbled, his throat sore and rough.

The little guy grinned reassuringly, "Not to worry, youngster, you've had a hard time. Been sleeping for more'n ten hours.

Iolaus wriggled a little, to bunch his pillow, so that he could slump a little higher in the truly massive bed. "Where am I?" he asked, with a confused and puzzled frown. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone quite like this little guy before, or a bed so big, for that matter.

"The north pole," the gnome answered matter-of-factly, then turned as the door behind him opened, letting in a shaft of bright yellow light, that was immediately blocked by the presence of a massive man.

Iolaus stiffened, in instinctive caution, as the giant lumbered into the room and moved to the bed. The man was huge...and ancient. He had a long, flowing white beard, down past his wide leather belt, and full, silver locks curled down past his shoulders. He was dressed casually, with suspenders over a plaid green and blue shirt clipped to baggy brown work pants. Great silver eyebrows shadowed his eyes, and he rubbed his ear as he came closer, squinting a little in the dim light, and bending, the better to see his unexpected guest. "He's awake, then, Derry?"

"Aye, he is that," the little gnome answered, moving away from the side of the bed, to let the giant come closer. Iolaus relaxed when the light caught the stranger's eyes, and let him see the welcoming sparkle, the kindness and humour dancing within the sky blue irises.

"Um, hi! I'm Iolaus," he said, holding out his hand, "Sorry to drop in on you like this."

A laugh rumbled deep in the stranger's chest, as he shook Iolaus' hand, the hunter's hand disappearing like a child's in the great paw of the giant. "Well, you're welcome for all that," the big man said with a warm smile. "I'm known by many names, and will be known by many more, but you can call me Chris."

Iolaus shook the hand, feeling vaguely ridiculous. "Thanks, Chris...I'd've died out there if you hadn't've helped me. How did you find me?"

Chris just continued to smile at him, the innocent smile of a child. "Well, lad, let's just say I heard you needed some help," he said.

Iolaus frowned, not understanding, but still too weary to really care. He'd slept through the painful reawakening of his frozen feet and hands, and they felt fine now...but, that surprised and mystified him, too. He hadn't wanted to think about it much, up there clutched in that monster's claws, but he'd been pretty sure the frostbite would have done irreparable damage.

But, he seemed fine. Felt fine. Just a little tired...and hungry!

As if reading his mind, Chris turned to Derry. "Bring him some of that good, warm soup," he said, then turned back to Iolaus. "We're a little busy just now, lad, but if you feel up to it after you've eaten, come on out into the hall by the larger fire, and we'll figure out what to do with you."

Iolaus wasn't sure what to say to that. What to do with him? He had felt safe, cared for...but, now he wondered. Chris caught the wary look, and smiled again, reassuringly, as he gently patted the smaller man's shoulder, his great hand covering much of Iolaus' bare chest. "Not to worry, lad. It'll be alright."

The giant rose then, and followed the little green gnome out of the door.

It hit Iolaus then.

'_THE NORTH POLE???_' he thought in stunned dismay. 'Where in Tarturus is _that?_'

* * *

Alcmene didn't know how to ease her son's pain, or her own, for that matter. They were all in shock, stunned, feeling lost. Hercules had told them what had happened, and what Aphrodite had told him, still desperately denying that he believed her words. But, it was only too clear that he was only trying to cling to hope, trying to deny his own increasing sense of hopelessness. Jason took care of the animals in the barn when he had to, and they drank tea to find a warmth that seemed determined to elude them. Nobody wanted to eat. None of them had slept well, and they each sat slumped in weary silence as the light faded on the third day of Iolaus'...disappearance. None of them could yet say the word, 'death', not even in the silence of their own minds.

Alcmene pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and sniffed, leaning her head on her husband's shoulder, as he hugged her to him. Jason's face was drawn and gray, lined with worry and grief. He kept shaking his head, as if trying to grasp what had happened, but unable to take it in.

Hercules stared into the fire, his blue eyes pools of haunted grief, glittering sharply from time to time as guilt, regret, and sorrow stabbed through him. He didn't want to believe it. Couldn't comprehend of a life without that laughter...without that unconditional, constant friendship...without the ever present being of the man he could trust with his soul, let alone his life. He bit his lip, swallowing, blinking, refusing to cry anymore. Crying meant that Iolaus was really gone. He sighed. Gods, he hated this... helplessness. If only he knew where to look.

North.

His face crumpled and his hand covered his eyes when he remembered the last time Iolaus had been drawn north by a power he couldn't resist, Hercules following out of belief in his friend, if not in Iolaus' vague but irresistable impulse born of a dream. There was goodness, and mystery, in the north. There was hope there, and a purity, an innocence, he'd not known or ever found elsewhere in the world. He had to hope that some of that purity and goodness had reached out to enfold his friend. He fought back the tears, swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to ease the tension in his body.

He had to hope. It was all that was left that he could do.

Hope, or give up. Accept Iolaus was dead. He couldn't do that...it was too...devastating, too wretched to contemplate.

So, he hoped, his soul questing north.

* * *

Iolaus felt better after the thick, satisfying soup, and the large chunk of fresh baked bread Derry had also brought for him. He'd been starving, and had needed the nourishment to battle back the weakness and exhaustion. After he'd eaten, he pushed back the quilt and slid to the edge of the massive bed. He was still wearing his leather pants, but his feet were bare. He wondered if Chris had given up his own bed for him, and was touched to realize this was likely the truth.

Slipping on his vest, which had been hanging from the corner post of the bed, he padded across the smooth wooden floor to the door of the chamber, and eased it open, looking past the narrow opening to get his bearings before venturing further. He was amazed by what he saw. The place was awash with the light of hundreds of candles and the bright fire burning in the huge open hearth. Chris sat at a massive pine work table, piles of papers before him with lists and lists upon them. Gnomes rushed in and out of the house, through a small door cut into a larger one, bringing the touch of frost in little gusts of air everytime they came or went, making Iolaus shiver unconsciously in the draft.

They were all dressed in felt and pointed hats and boots, but while some wore green, like Derry, others wore blue, yellow, red, orange, purple, polkadots and stripes, patchwork, pink and white, gray and scarlet. Some seemed almost ancient with age, while others seemed little more than children. The only thing they had in common besides the basic style was that they were all tiny, and they all moved with a kind of controlled frenzy, as if in a great hurry to accomplish some great purpose.

Each one passed Chris another list, and he would match it with one on the table, making checkmark notations with a long plumed pen, while nodding and smiling with increasing pleasure. Iolaus surmised from his actions with the stacks of paper, than the higher one was the stack of completed work, and the shorter stack was shrinking with every passing minute.

The hunter ventured into the room, reluctant to intrude, but wondering what was going on. "Um, can I help," he offered, coming to Chris' side.

The giant looked at him, grinning to see him looking so much better. Iolaus' colour was normal again, and the sparkling blue eyes were clear. He'd be fine, just fine. "Nay, lad, we're about done here, and not too soon! Pour yourself a mug of the mulled wine, and set yourself down by the fire. I'll be with you in two shakes of a reindeer's tail!"

Iolaus didn't want to interrupt the flow of work, but his curiousity was killing him. "What are these lists the gnomes keep bringing to you?" he asked, only to be startled by the outraged gasp from the little person beside him.

"GNOME! He called us _GNOMES!_" the little old female snapped, gravely insulted, drawning herself up to her full three foot height with a grim and forbidding dignity.

"Easy, Sandis, he doesn't know any better. He meant no insult, did you lad?" Chris soothed.

"NO! Sorry...I didn't mean...I..." Iolaus floundered, confused.

"They be elves, lad, and proud of it!" the genial giant explained. "There now, go make yourself comfortable, and I'll be with you soon."

Iolaus, deciding to rein in his curiousity before he caused any real trouble, followed Chris' gesture toward the hearth and moved to ladle mulled wine from the pot steaming over the fire into a huge glazed ceramic mug. He inhaled deeply, smelling good wine made rich with cloves and cinnamon. He took a tentative sip, and felt it warm him to his toes. Sighing in unconscious contentment, he pulled a blanket from a stack warming by the hearth and draped it around his shoulders, before sitting in a large, well padded, comfortable old chair. He watched the activity and waited to find out what it was all about.

It was just a little more than an hour later that Chris came to sit beside him, having helped himself to a large mug of the wine. Settling back with a contented sigh, the big man's eyes twinkled in merriment as he regarded Iolaus over the rim of his mug. Setting it down on the low pine table beside him, he began kindly, "So, lad, why don't you tell me how you came to visit us so close to the Winter Solstice?"

Having nothing to hide, Iolaus told him of the events which had led him to Chris' door. The ancient man's brows furrowed in anger when he heard about the vicious God of War, and his heartless treatment of this little man who sat wrapped in blankets by his fire. His eyes narrowing in speculation, Chris heard more than Iolaus told him...only a fool or a brave man would take on such an unpredictable and vindictive god. And, so far at least, Iolaus had not seemed a fool.

Sighing sadly at the end of the tale, Chris shook his head. "Cronus' lot leave a great deal to be desired," he rumbled.

Iolaus looked up sharply. "What do you know of Cronus?" he asked frowning, his own eyes narrowed as he studied the man sitting across from him.

Chris shrugged a little selfconsciously. "Well, you see, lad, I'm a kind of distant relation. When the earth was created and Gaia reigned supreme, she took to herself many husbands, and had a great many children. There're gods all over this great ball we all call home."

"Ball?" Iolaus repeated, his brows shooting up under the unruly mop of curls that tumbled over his forehead. "The world is round?"

The old giant rumbled with laughter. "Aye, it is, completely round, mostly covered in water, with land and people scattered widely across her breast."

Iolaus frowned as he gazed into the fire, thinking Herc had been right again. He'd always insisted the world was round. Figured. Herc was always right.

Bringing his attention back to Chris, he ventured, "You're a Titan?"

Chris shrugged his great shoulders. "I suppose that would be as good a term as any," he replied. "I'm a kind of guardian, though I've not many powers."

"Guardian of what?" Iolaus asked leaning forward a little, curious.

"Of children, mostly, but also of what childhood, when it is good, best represents. Innocence, trust, love, generosity of the spirit, happiness...but, it's all very fragile, very vulnerable. Not easy to guard or nurture," the giant sighed, suddenly sad.

Iolaus didn't understand. How could anyone 'guard' all that? "What do you do, exactly?" he asked softly.

Chris looked over at him, a gentle smile on his lips and in his eyes as he contemplated the earnest man sitting across from him. "Well, lad, mostly, I offer hope...and once a year, I bring joy and happiness...and a bit of fun...to the little ones in my domain."

When Iolaus just frowned, still not getting it, Chris waved back toward the pile of papers on the table. "Everyone has a wish, lad, everyone hopes for something precious, hopes against all reasonable hope...but hopes all the same. Adults are harder to reach. They've learned not to hope for too much, learned to expect disappointment. But, the pure of heart, the innocent of spirit...well, they still can believe in miracles. Mostly, its the children who still hear my call to them, my call to reach for the best in themselves and the world around them. To be curious, and unafraid."

He sighed, taking another sip of the mulled wine, then continued. "So, during the year, my elves and I listen to their hearts and read their dreams...and we make our lists. Come Winter Solstice, I make my ride, to fulfill those wishes...to help the innocent ones believe a little longer in the song of their souls...the song of hope and love...and the belief that anything is possible."

Iolaus scratched his head, thinking back to his own childhood. Gods, he could have wished he'd have lived in Chris' domain. There'd been a lot of cold, empty solstices...a lot of wishes he'd had that no one had ever heard. About the only wish that had ever come true, was for a friend, a best friend.

The hairs prickled along the back of his neck, and he looked up sharply to find the older man's eyes upon him, glowing with warmth and humour. "Sometimes," Chris mused, "the wish is for something tangible, like a pair of new boots, or a warm cloak, a pretty ribbon or a comb. Sometimes, though, the wish for something or someone to warm the soul." Then, unexpectedly, he asked softly, "Have ye been happy with your friend, lad?"

Unbidden, surprising himself, Iolaus' eyes filled with tears at the question. He looked away, embarrassed, as he brushed at his eyes impatiently and sniffed. "Yes," Iolaus whispered, sniffing again. "Herc's the best part of my life...always has been."

He looked back at the old, old man, his eyes filled with wonder at the gentle smile, and the pleased gratification in those eyes. "You?" Iolaus' eyes asked more than did his voice, and when the heavy head nodded just once, he smiled with all the glory of the dawn. "Thank you," the hunter said quietly, past the lump in his throat, overcome. "*Thank you...I've never had a better gift...and...well, Hercules _is_ hope. To be with him, is to never give up hope...."

Chris nodded, looking into the fire, "Aye, well, it seems even hope himself needs a little help from time to time, to keep believing...."

Iolaus' eyes clouded with concern. "Herc's alright, isn't he? Nothing's happened to him?" he asked anxiously, leaning forward, the blanket slipping unnoticed from his shoulders.

"Yer friend is afraid he's lost everything that gives his life meaning, that lets him carry on being an embodiment of hope for others. Nay, he's not alright, lad," Chris said, then looked at Iolaus, smiling to reassure him, "But, he will be."

Iolaus frowned, deep in worry. What had happened to Hercules? Gods, if Ares had done something to him, well...all the gods help him! Because Iolaus would find a way to make him pay.

Chris watched the smaller man, reading his soul, and nodded, pleased. It was rare to find such innocent fire, so unaware and unselfconscious of its own worth...humble, concerned only about another's pain. He'd made a good match, those years ago, when the two little souls had hungered after the same pure desire...to find a friend to stand by forever, to love without condition and without end.

Taking a deep breath, Chris stirred and stood to his great height. "Don't be afraid, child, it will be alright. Now, I've more work to do, before this night is done. Then, I'll rest late into the day tomorrow. Do you realize, tomorrow is Solstice Eve? It's that night that I travel the world. You go rest now...and be in no hurry to get up. Ye'll be coming with me, to bring hope back to those who still know anything can be possible, if you love and believe enough in the magic of your heart."

* * *

Alcmene woke the next morning deciding she'd done enough moping around. It was Solstice Eve and she had a great deal to do to prepare for the next day. When Jason and Hercules rose later in the morning, she was already rattling pans, her arms coated with flour, and the oven in the hearth was filled with meat pies baking for the morrow.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked coming up behind her to give her a quick hug.

"Why, I'm getting ready for tomorrow...it's Solstice, remember? And, you need to go out and chop lots of wood...you'll not be wanting to do that in the midst of all our celebrations over the next few days," she said briskly.

"Celebrations?" Hercules questioned, frowning. The last thing he felt like doing was celebrating.

"Yes, _celebrations,_" Alcmene responded firmly. "I want you to go into the forest and bring back a clutch of rabbits. I'm going to make a stew."

Herc gazed at his mother, a question in his eyes, wondering if she was alright. Rabbit stew was Iolaus' favourite, and she was acting as if she expected him to be there with them tomorrow. "Mother," he began tentatively, but stopped, not sure what he had intended to say.

She looked up at him, her eyes softening at the bleak look in his eyes. Moving to stand before him, she touched his cheek, leaving a faint trace of flour upon it. "Hercules, it's Solstice...," she said gently, "and miracles _can_ happen. Don't be afraid to keep hoping...." She bit her lip. It was taking all she had to keep hoping, and she knew she risked even greater devastation on the morrow if their hopes were not fulfilled.

But, she didn't know what else to do. She loved Iolaus, and couldn't bear to think she'd never see him again. He was so much a part of all their lives, and so important, so vitally important, to Hercules. The thought that he might never return was too much to bear.

She had to keep hoping, with all her heart.

* * *

Jason did as instructed and went out to the pile of logs. Picking one up and putting it on the stump, he heaved up the axe, and brought it down to splinter the large log into smaller pieces. Over and over, he repeated the ritual, until he had created quite a pile of kindling and logs the right size for the hearth. Throughout it all, he thought about what had happened, and how Alcmene was determined to believe Iolaus would be coming back.

Jason wished he could believe it, too. Really wished he could. But, even if Iolaus was by some miracle still alive, he was too far away to ever make it home by tomorrow.

And, much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Jason didn't really believe his old friend was still alive. As impossible as it seemed to think of that bright, restless, impetuous spirit being snuffed out, he was desperately afraid he'd never hear the laughter, or see the fearless, dauntless warrior again.

Tears stung his eyes, and he blinked against them. Gods, he didn't want to think about what it would mean for all of them if Iolaus really was dead. His heart clenched in sorrow. But, even if he couldn't hope for himself, for Alcmene's sake, and for Hercules, he had to try.

Bad news kept...there'd be time to mourn, if it was mourning they must do.

For now, hard as it was, he'd hope he was wrong...and that Iolaus would be coming home.

* * *

While Alcmene cooked, and Jason cut the wood, Hercules hunted. He laid the snares, just the way his buddy had taught him long ago, when they'd still been kids. And, then, he just wandered the forest, feeling as if everywhere he looked, there was a memory. Gods, they'd played out here for years...knew every hollow, every tree. He reached out with his heart, to try to touch Iolaus, to find him there.

But, there was nothing.

And, Herc didn't know whether to be glad or bereft. If he'd felt Iolaus, would that mean that his friend's spirit had come to comfort him? When he couldn't feel him, did it mean Iolaus was still alive somewhere, trying to get back...or did it just mean his buddy's soul was too far away to find its way home?

It'd been four long, empty, lost days since that monster had stolen his best friend away. Would it be a lifetime of the same?

Herc shook his head, going back to check the snares. He couldn't give up, not yet. Even though it made no sense to keep hoping, even though his mind told him it was hopeless.

He'd bring home the rabbits for the stew.

With the hope that Iolaus would be delighted they'd believed in him, in his power to achieve the impossible, and believing in him, had prepared for his return.

* * *

Having slept another night and half a day, Iolaus woke restless, wanting to get some air, needing to explore his new environment a little further. He let himself out of the house, wrapped in a capacious woolen cloak against the frosty air, his breath a billowing white cloud that drifted away on the frigid breeze. He wandered around the corner of the building, past several of the tiny huts, back toward the large barn he'd seen the first night, and the corrals. When he turned the back corner of the house, he stopped in his tracks.

The elves were climbing about a huge, crimson and brass sleigh, which was loaded to overflowing with packages and bags. Gods, the thing was bigger than the Trojan Horse had been! Then, he couldn't help but chuckle. They were singing! A bright, uplifting, gay little melody that gave rhythm to their work. He couldn't make out the words, and figured it must be in a language he didn't understand. But, his heart understood, and he felt unaccountably happier than he'd felt in days.

Wandering to the corral, he spotted twelve...no, thirteen, reindeer. They capered and pranced, playing games of tag with one another, seemingly full of mischief and energy. One had a peculiar nose...it was very red, and in the constant darkness of the day in this far northern place, it _glowed!_

Bemused, he wandered back to the house, shivering a little in the deep cold, wondering how all these folks could be so cheerful, so full of energy when all the relentless cold seemed to do was sap his strength and make him sleepy. How did they stay so bright in the deep of an endless night?

Hope, he supposed. Hope, and love, could light any darkness.

When he let himself back into the house, he poured a mug of tea, and waited for Chris, who had disappeared into his room to change for the trip. A few minutes later, his mouth gaped open in awe when the elderly giant strode briskly back into the main room.

Gods, he was _magnificent_, garbed in brilliant crimson robes, over pants of the same rich colour, lined at the collar and cuffs of his arms and legs with snowy white fleece, a massive black belt around his girth and shiny, immaculate black boots on his feet. His white hair and beard flowed clean and bright, almost silver in the fire's flickering light. Chris, however, seemed unaware of the impact of his appearance, as he reached over his head to secure a soft, crimson hat in place, it's pointed tip burdened with a great ball of white wool, lying down to the side.

Pulling white gloves from his deep pockets, and drawing them onto his hands, he looked up at Iolaus and grinned, "Ready to go, lad?"

"Aye," Iolaus whispered in amazement. The man must be older than the mountains, but he moved with the vigour of a youth, and his eyes blazed with the glee of a child on Solstice Eve.

"Well then, let's be off. It'll be a long, busy night!"

Making sure Iolaus was well wrapped against the cold, Chris then led the way out into the darkness. The reindeer had been harnessed to the sleigh, and bells tinkled as they moved, anxious to be off...the one with the red nose was in the lead. Chris boosted Iolaus up into the sleigh, then climbed up himself, taking the reins. He waved at the elves who had all gathered round, calling, "Merry Solstice Eve, to all of you! And, thank you, my friends, for the magic you bring to this night!"

Iolaus settled back, wondering how they would ever manage to clear the snowy, endless tundra he'd seen from the sky above, let alone travel the whole world, in only one night. Chris slapped the reins, calling to his deer, merrily encouraging them to set off.

And, set off they did! Iolaus gave a startled yelp as the great sleigh launched into the air, and he slid back against the seat. Chris laughed heartily at his surprise. "Magic, Iolaus...it _is_ real, you know!"

Awestruck, looking around at the world below, and the stars above, at the reindeer pulling them along the channel of the wind, he looked up at Chris and grinned. "Yeah," he breathed, "I can see that it does!"

Later, he never remembered the details...just the magic.

* * *

Solstice morn dawned bright and clear.

Alcmene was up with the dawn, putting the rabbit stew on to simmer slow and long during the day, to fill the air with fragrant aromas. She baked up the special sweet rolls she made every Winter Solstice morning, filled with raisins and nuts, nutmet and cinnamon, glazed with honey, and they too added to the fragrance of her home. Finally, she put water on to boil for tea.

She pushed back at the anxiety in her chest, finding it hard to breathe. Almost trembling with the clash of painful hope and fearful despair, she went to wake up her men.

It was Solstice. Miracles _could_ happen.

Stiffening her back, putting a smile on her face, she first woke Jason, and when he was up, together they went to Herc's door. She opened it quietly, slipping in to gently wake her son, while Jason waited for her in the doorway.

With a tremulous heart aching with sorrow that Iolaus wasn't in the bed he always used when home, she gazed at it, and froze. Her hands flashed to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears, as she trembled with disbelieving joy. Jason saw her startled movements, heard her stifled sob, and worried, he came deeper into the room, looking to see what had upset her so.

And then he, too, froze, in amazement and wonder.

Alcmene and Jason exchanged looks of radiant joy, and they hugged one another, to share the hoped for, but truly unexpected, overwhelming happiness of this moment.

Then, Alcmene pulled away, and moved to rouse Hercules, softly calling to him as she nudged his shoulder. He lifted an arm over his eyes, not sure he wanted to face this day. But she was insistent.

Sighing, he lowered his arm, and opened his eyes.

"_Happy Solstice, Hercules,_" she greeted him with a hoarse whisper, her tearfilled eyes glittering with love, a brilliant smile on her lips. "Happy Solstice, my son," she repeated, moving out of his line of sight, her hand drawing his eyes to the bed across the room.

Iolaus was curled in the blankets, his face innocent in sleep, his hair tousled in the golden light slipping through the window.

Hercules couldn't breathe, his heart clenched then pounded, and he felt a rush of emotion so strong he shuddered. As he rolled over, and sat up and bringing his legs down to the floor, his eyes never left the sight before them.

Iolaus. Home. Safe. By the Gods! **_IOLAUS_**!

Herc trembled, his eyes filled to overflowing, his lips quivering and his body shivering with reaction. Alcmene pulled him against her hip, her arm around his shoulders, hugging him tight, holding him like she'd done when he'd been a child, holding him while he cried silently in helpless wonder and relief.

Finally able to stand, he moved across the room, and went down on one knee, his hand tentatively reaching out to touch Iolaus, to ruffle his hair...afraid it was only a dream, afraid his buddy would disappear if he touched him.

But the curls were warm, and silky..._real_.

Iolaus blinked, and looked up into his friend's eyes, "Happy Solstice, Herc," he said with a bright smile, eyes dancing with glee at the surprise he knew he'd given them all. He spared Alcmene, and Jason who was again holding her, a quick look of love, before his eyes blazed back at Hercules.

Herc pulled Iolaus forward, and wrapped him in a tight hug. "_Iolaus!_" he whispered, "_I'd hoped so much...._" His voice faltered, unable to say more.

"I know, buddy, I know...it was _'hope'_ who brought me home...." Iolaus murmured, his own heart in his throat, hugging Herc right back.

It was Winter Solstice...a time of love, and celebration. A time of miracles and magic.

And, of timeless hope and joy.

Finis


End file.
